


To Catch a Thief

by suadadeinmoonlight



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suadadeinmoonlight/pseuds/suadadeinmoonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Carmilla is an assassin whose new assignment becomes more complicated than she imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic for the Carmilla fandom so I hope you enjoy! The work isn't based on the film by the same title, but I will allude to classic films from time to time just for fun.

The warm summer air caressed Carmilla’s face as she exited the tube station. The evening was bustling with people who were out looking for something to do, or a place to be; they blurred before her, their fading voices the only clue of their existence.

She took in the scenery around her, new buildings surrounded by old buildings, it was a visual oxymoron to say the least, but she enjoyed the familiar contrast. The overwhelming feeling of nostalgia begged to be felt, and for once she allowed herself the small pleasure of remembering the past.

A flash of memories popped into her mind, one after the other, after the other, yet she could not remember how old she was, or for how long London was her home out of the many places she had called home in her youth. But she remembered the feeling of being there, as though everything was exactly as it was when she left. Even the man selling caramelized peanuts by the London Eye seemed familiar to her. 

She remembered the museums, and how she always seemed to be inside an art gallery when it was raining. Even now, the sound of rain makes her think of a William Turner painting. 

The outline of St Paul’s Cathedral could be seen in the distance across the Thames. She recalled the time she went to the very top and saw all of London, and those dreadful stairs she nearly fell from its dizzying spiral, but someone was there to catch her, yet she could not remember them, and it disturbed her deeply that she could not, so she suppressed anymore memories that tried to be remembered.

Carmilla began to wonder what her old self would think of her present self— a common thought among those in a state of nostalgia. Her childhood ambitions were too always be successful and happy. She chuckled as she imagined herself telling her past self that she would grow up to be a cat burglar and then a lonely assassin.

After twenty minutes of walking along the river, the evening turned into night and she finally arrived at her destination.

Inside the dark lit lounge the smell of tobacco and the sound of jazz music flowed throughout the space and provided the building with a mellow ambience. Countless conversations lingered in the air like a thin haze.

Carmilla walked into the lounge and swiftly maneuvered her way to the bar. She surveyed the area, keeping an eye out for the man she was supposed to meet.  


The scent of cigarettes sent chills down her spine, it had been awhile since her last smoke, but she could not indulge in her guilty pleasure, and she would not for a long while after that. 

At the bar, she ordered a drink and tried to discourage the flirtatious bartender, who seemed to be under the impression that she was flirting back. Once he left to attend to other customers, she looked around for a clock.  


_8:49_

Suddenly, she felt someone tap her shoulder. A woman with a Spanish accent offered to buy her a drink. 

She would be able to recognize that voice anywhere. 

“Emilia,” she whispered, and turned around to meet the beautiful brown skinned woman. She had long dark brown hair and hazel eyes that seemed brown in the darkened room. The black sleeveless top she wore fell loosely over her chest accentuating her collar bones. The floral printed skrit seemed to flow even though she was standing still. The sight of Emilia filled Carmilla with a confusing mix of joy and animosity

“What do you want?” was how Carmilla greeted her former partner.

Emilia motioned to the bartender for a drink. “I thought you would be happy to see your best friend,” she said with a cunning smile.

Carmilla let out an exaggerated chuckle. “A best friend doesn’t leave you tied up in an abandoned warehouse that’s about to explode while she takes the reward and runs. I broke two ribs trying to get out of there.”

“That still doesn’t compare to you leaving me hanging —literally hanging— from the edge of an art gallery for three hours. I fell twenty feet and luckily landed on a bush and only sprained my foot.”

“Well I guess that makes us even then, doesn’t it, cupcake?” 

The two glared at each other and then suddenly burst into genuine laughter. As their joy dissipated they found themselves smiling at one another, almost like lovers do, as though it was familiar to them, yet there was an uncomfortable tension looming over them.

“How did you find me?” asked Carmilla.

“I always know where to find you, Carm,” said Emilia, and then took a sip of her drink. 

Carmilla shifted her gaze back to the crowd and looked around the room for a tall man with graying hair, a gold tooth, and a scar on the right side of his cheek. 

“Carmilla,” said Emilia slowly, as though it pained her. 

“No,” said Carmilla rather curtly. Her good mood now faded and she found the tinges of hate returning.

Emilia glared at Carmilla before she relaxed her body. She felt a soreness in her hand; she had not realized she was gripping her glass so hard.

“You just left us without a word. For weeks I thought you were dead until I heard from some scum that you were working for a guy named Hollis. What does he have to offer you that we couldn’t?”

“We had no direction. Maybe it was fun for a while, taking any job that came our way no matter how dangerous it would be, but I needed something more stable, more organized. I needed something more.” Carmilla looked at Emilia with the culmination of years of unsaid words rapidly spilling out of her. Her eyes focused to what was behind Emilia. The man she was waiting for was standing in between two large pillars. 

“Good-bye, Emilia,” said Carmilla as she left her seat at the bar and approached the man, who eagerly put his arm around her. They both walked towards the exit.  


Carmilla turned her head just enough to see Emilia flirting with the bartender as though nothing had happened, but Carmilla could see her hand shaking as she clutched her skirt.

“You seem troubled” said the man as he tightened his grip around Carmilla, which was meant to be assuring but only made it hard for Carmilla not to cringe. 

“Yeah, maybe you could help me take my mind off of it?” Carmilla dragged her fingers along the man’s chest, slightly pouting her lips.

“Anything for you, princess,” the man grinned, widely, exposing his gold tooth. 

Carmilla was still trying hard not to cringe. She nodded in response and was about to glance back at the bar one last time, except her view was blocked by the passing of people.

 

At the hotel, the man was eager to get inside the room but Carmilla was eager to kill him. After spending nearly forty minutes with him she realized why someone had put a hit on him. She would have rather used a sniper or something more exciting, but she had no say in the matter this time and had to settle for impersonating a call girl. Being an assassin had its downfalls.

As the man closed the door, he immediately took it upon himself to be the initiator, and in an animalistic motion, lunged towards Carmilla and began to kiss her. She pushed him away aggressively, which was something she regretted. He looked at her with a confused, stupid expression. 

“Why don’t we have some drinks first?” she said, trying to recover from the incident.

The man agreed, although not so happy with the turn of events. 

In Carmilla’s head, the drinks would come and she could easily slip some poison into his drink (since she had her poison ring on) and that would be the end of her night. 

That is not how things went.

The man went to the bar and she followed, going behind the counter and offered to play bartender and pour drinks. However, while she did so, he loomed over like a hawk, his arms wrapping themselves around her and resting his head on her shoulder. It would be impossible to even spit in his drink let alone poison it. 

Carmilla kept thinking of ways to keep him away, but they all involved knocking him out with a blunt object and she was told specifically not to leave any marks on him, to make his death look as close to an unfortunate accident as possible. So, the only thing she could do was wait. 

After an hour and two bottles of alcohol, Carmilla was not sure if she could get any more alcohol in him. He was a large man with a strong build, not like that of a bodybuilder but of one that was capable of strangling someone to death if necessary, and in his line of work it was necessary. 

The man that she was expected to kill was a rising drug lord. His success came from his use of violence rather than clever tactics much like a modern Tony Camonte. This, along with his prominent scar, granted him the nickname Scar.

Carmilla was running out of time. She knew that nearby there were guards who would soon become suspicious about the noises coming from the room. Scar was becoming aggressive, throwing things around and speaking louder than she had hoped. 

At this point he seemed to have forgotten the reason she was there and was speaking in slurs. Carmilla watched as he began dancing to the sound of his own humming, and then stripping. She was not sure what to make of this, but she enjoyed the humility. 

Scar let out one long, unpleasant note and fell onto the bed. He was passed out.

Carmilla sat with her elbows on the inside of her thighs and just stared at him. She was thinking of ways to take advantage his unconsciousness when she heard a knock on the door.

From the other side a woman’s voice called “room service.” Carmilla knew that it was unlikely to be an actual hotel maid. Whoever was behind that door had to have bypassed Scar’s guards and that thought worried her. 

At the same time she heard gagging sounds coming from drug lord. There was only ten seconds before that door opened and she knew that it would take at least five minutes before Scar would die from the unfortunate accident of choking on his own vomit. 

Inside of her boot she reached for a small slender gun. This gun did not shoot bullets, but rather jets of liquid concrete that dry on contact. The small tool was invented by her former con partner and was very useful when it came to escaping security guards.

She fired three shots right before the sound of the clink of the door unlocking was heard.

The person behind the door struggled to open it and that sent a wave of relief all over Carmilla’s body. 

It only took the assassin five minutes to clear any evidence that she was in the room, and it only took her two more minutes to exit through the balcony, scale the walls of the hotel, and hail a cab to the airport.

By the time the door was finally broken down and Scar’s body found, Carmilla was on a private jet to New York. 

 

Carmilla entered Hollis’s office the following afternoon. The high ceiling, marble flooring and large windows always managed to put her in a state of admiration. 

In the middle of the large space was a large desk with one large leather chair behind it and two less luxurious chairs in front of it. Two security guards stood on opposite ends of the room though they were hard to spot due to the abundance of plants in the room. 

Hollis stood with his back facing Carmilla. He was staring out of the large windows towards a view overlooking Central Park.

Hollis was a reserved man. He had a slender face with rounded glasses and short hair. He had an accountant’s look to him, not the leader of an assassin agency. His position was always a curiosity among the other assassins who knew little about Hollis’s background or even his first name. 

Without turning around, Hollis kindly said “sit”, and so Carmilla sat. 

“I have a new assignment for you,” said Hollis, a stern look on his face and a worry in his eyes.

“Who is the target?” said Carmilla as she crossed her legs and awaited to be told about the boring subject she would have to kill, and how she would have to do it. But for once, she was taken by surprise when Hollis uttered,

“My daughter.”


	2. Chapter 2

Carmilla stared at Hollis with a bewildered look on her face. She knew that he was capable of asking such a drastic task of her, but it still threw her off guard. 

The doors behind Carmilla opened and she was disappointed to see Theo walking through them.

Theo was one of the other assassins who worked under Hollis. He was never fond of Carmilla which is why she was never fond of him. Perhaps it was her snide demeanor, or the way she gained Hollis’s trust quickly. Carmilla would never know anyway, for assassins are too proud and rarely admit anything they do not need to.

“Wait, you want me to kill your daughter?” asked Carmilla. Theo was about to sit down, but he looked at Hollis with a sense of betrayal. It was only a glance, one that lasted a second, but Carmilla saw it and was not sure what relationship Theo had with Hollis, or his family. 

“I don’t want you to kill my daughter. When she becomes a liability then we’ll talk. What I’m asking for is more of favor.”

Carmilla and Theo began to feel uncomfortable at the thought of their boss asking anything of them. They both had many questions, none of which would be answered because they were both too afraid to ask.

“I have been receiving threats from an anonymous thief,” at this, Theo shot an accusing glance at Carmilla, who returned it with a scowl. Hollis continued, “and although I’m used to the inflow of threats, this is too personal. I fear that my daughter’s life could be in danger. I want you two to watch over her.”

Carmilla let out a laugh.

“You want us to babysit your daughter? I’m sorry but I have better things to do than watch over some spoiled girl.”

“Karnstien this is serious. My daughter is not some child, she is an adult and quite frankly you two are the only ones I trust for this assignment. Now, you can either listen to what I have to say or you can leave.” Hollis was beginning to get very upset. It was obvious that his worry was overwhelming him for he always tried to keep a calm, threatening essence. He rarely raised his voice.

Theo was enjoying Carmilla being scolded at. He put his hands to the back of his head, a pleased smirk rested on his lips. 

“Laura is familiar with Theo so I am going to have him stay close to her. Carmilla, I want you to look into finding the thief.”

“How suitable, you have a thief trying to catch a thief. Let me guess, you also have a wine cellar downstairs with a bottle of uranium ore. Carmilla, do you suffer from vertigo?”

“Theo, enough with your nonsense,” said Hollis, “I want you to look after Laura. I don’t care if you have to romance her, just stay near her as much as you can. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.” Theo got up and left the office.

“Carmilla, I’ll have you talk with my tech guy downstairs.”

“Alrighty captain,” said Carmilla as she stood up from her chair.

“Oh, and, Carmilla,” said Hollis as he looked down at a few scattered papers, “good work on the last assignment. Asphyxiation from his own vomit.” He let out a laugh. “Who would have thought.”

Carmilla nodded and walked out of the office. A nauseating feeling was gnawing on her insides. 

The basement was very cold despite the hot, humid day outside. She wandered along an eerie corridor. The lights were dim, some occasionally flickered, and there was an acrid scent in the air similar to the smell of molding fabric or iron.

When Carmilla entered the computer room she found a man sitting in the seat. The light from the multiple computer screens was the only light in the small room. Carmilla lightly tapped on the door and the man swiftly turned around. He had a long slender face with thin hair and a crooked nose. He wore glasses that had lenses so thick they could probably resolve Mars. The man spoke to Carmilla with a deep, soft voice that was patient yet unsettling. 

As the man told her about which programs were available to her for hacking into underground organization networks, she felt sorry for him. This man, who knew too much and yet nothing at all. 

“What is this for?” asked Carmilla when he handed her a paper.

“It is the access codes for a program called ‘Laura’. Hollis wanted me to give this to you, he thinks the thief could have befriended Laura.” 

The assassin was curious. She entered the codes and was able to hack into Laura’s personal computer and social network accounts. There were separate folders that contained detailed information on the people that Laura had been acquainted to, and the places she spent her time at throughout her adolescence, and now young adulthood. 

“Can you say over protective father,” Carmilla mumbled.

The man made a small sound in agreement.

“She’s quite the philanthropist,” Carmilla commented after seeing the list of places Laura devoted her time to.

“Yeah, I mean when you have a rich father you find better things to do with your time,” said the man.

“What do the rest of the programs on this computer do?” asked Carmilla.

“They’re mostly just for organizing information, and a few antiviral protectors. This is still a high end financial advising agency, our clients’ information is still something we need to protect just as much as our darker secrets.” 

There was a beep coming from the man’s pager and he excused himself upstairs.

The rest of Carmilla’s day would be spent hacking into computers trying to find the thief, and learning nearly everything about Laura.

“Well at least she’s pretty,” Carmilla muttered to herself as she prepared herself for the long hours ahead. 

 

That night Carmilla lay awake on her bed staring at the ceiling listening to the sound of the traffic from below, and the light tapping of rain against her window. 

She could not get Emilia out of her mind. After three years she became used to Emilia’s absence, a lingering distraction that faded away with time but was never completely gone. Their recent encounter resurfaced feelings that were left unsaid, for good reasons, but now she ached to start over.

Her thoughts slowly faded into dreams. She was suddenly inside Hollis’s office. Theo came lunging towards her with a sword in his hands. 

They were fighting to death. 

Carmilla quickly backflipped avoiding a fatal swing of the sword. She sprinted to the other end of the room to buy time. From her back pocket, she grabbed a gun and shot straight at Theo, but it was the concrete gun. 

Theo’s right arm was plastered onto the marble floor. The sword landed only three feet away from him. She ran towards the sword and picked it up. As she was about to plunge it into her enemy's chest she could hear the sound of a pair of hands clapping. When she looked up. she saw that it was coming from Hollis’s silhouette. His silhouette seemed to multiply and a whole crowd of shadowed figures were applauding her. 

_Do it_  
_Do it_  
The crowd chanted.

When she looked back down it was Emilia who was lying on the ground. She too was chanting with the crowd. Carmilla’s hands shook, and trembled the sword. 

She could not kill her.

Carmilla was overwhelmed and she ran out of the room, pushing through the shadows and into a dark hallway. She ran down stairs that soon curved into a spiral. She became dizzy and lost her balance. As she was falling a pair of arms caught hold of her. It was Laura.

There were a few rays of sunlight coming from behind the stranger she never met. They illuminated some of her stray blonde hairs and made her look angelic. Laura said something, but Carmilla could not make out what she said.

The loud knock on Carmilla’s apartment door woke her up. The brunette rolled out of bed and took a quick glance at her alarm clock.

_5:36_

The early light of morning was seeping into the cracks of the venetian blinds leaving streaks of yellow along the floor of her apartment. She could hear the birds chirping outside, but this would not be a lovely morning for her.

She grabbed a robe hanging from her desk chair to cover her half naked body, and walked towards the door. Through the peephole she saw Emilia. Carmilla walked away from the door.

“Carmilla, please open the door,” called Emilia from the other side.

“Fuck you,” called out Carmilla, as she grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and put them on.

Emilia’s sigh was audible from behind the door. “I have information about your sister.”

Carmilla knew this was a lie. She grabbed a t-shirt that was hanging over the blender and replaced her robe with it. 

Carmilla opened the door. Whatever it was that Emilia wanted to tell her must be important enough for her to bring up her sister.

Emilia stood looking at her with eyes that still pleaded to be sympathized with. “Well aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked.

“What are you, a vampire?” said Carmilla sarcastically. 

Emilia stepped inside the dark apartment and looked around.

“You’re still messy.” 

“You’re still pretentious.” 

The two made their way to the small kitchen. Emilia took it upon herself to open the blinds of the nearby window and push it open. Light poured into the small kitchen and illuminated everything inside. The birds chirping were more audible and the occasional car passing below could also be heard more clearly.

“Coffee?” asked Carmilla as she squinted her eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

“Tea is fine,” Emilia responded and sat down.

Carmilla could not help but smile, which prompted Emilia to ask why.

“We never could agree on anything.”

“Is that why you left?”

There was a long silence between the two women.

“You’re not here to tell me where Mattie is, are you?”

“No, but you already knew that,” Emilia paused, “Carmilla, you are in danger.”

“No shit, I’m an assassin. I’m always in danger.”

The kettle began to whistle. Carmilla grabbed two mugs and poured hot water into both. She gave Emilia a tea bag and put a tablespoon of instant coffee in her own mug. 

Carmilla sat down and looked at Emilia while she stirred her coffee.

“I’m serious,” said the Spanish woman. “There is a dangerous thief who has it out for your boss.”

“Wait, what do you know about this thief?” asked Carmilla, suddenly intrigued.

“Not much. Even with J.P’s hacking skills there is no trace on them. However they operate extremely secretive. They’ve slowly been taking over a lot of the underground  
organizations. I’m sure that if Hollis doesn’t give in they’ll start tearing down his agency little by little, ruining his reputation, and then taking out his men leaving him with no other choice.”

This new information left Carmilla with an uneasy feeling. J.P was the other member of their former cat burglar trio and the greatest hacker in the Carmilla ever knew. His skills surpassed anything that Hollis’ tech team could ever accomplish. If he could not find the thief, there was no way she could. 

“Why are you telling me this?” asked Carmilla in an annoyed tone.

Emilia was beginning to get frustrated. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. And I know that somewhere in your treacherous heart you care about me too. Come back to us. We can give you a fresh start. You’re not an assassin, Carmilla, you never were. That’s why we escaped the academy, that’s why we vowed to never kill. Do you remember that promise?” Emilia's voice cracked in the middle of her last sentence.

Carmilla was getting flashbacks to her days in the academy. How at the age of twelve she learned how to break a person’s neck, at the age of fourteen she could assemble and use a sniper, and how for seven years she was fed small doses of poison so her body would become immune to it. Her years of adolescence taken away from her.

“Being an assassin is what I am good at. It’s all I will ever be. Send J.P my regards.” Carmilla stood up to escort Emilia out. 

Emilia could not stand to look at Carmilla, her eyes watering as she walked towards the door.

“I hope you find happiness one day, Carmilla, I really do.” Emilia turned around and left. Carmilla slammed the door right after. She ran her hands through her hair and stood in the empty apartment. The birds were still chirping.

 

A week had past from Carmilla’s encounter with Emilia. She mostly kept the memory of their conversation at bay, though the unsettling idea that she made a mistake still lingered in her mind constantly. 

She was back in the computer room looking for any clues on the thief but she had no luck. Out of boredom she went back to looking at the pictures Laura posted on social media. 

After scrolling for five minutes she came across a picture of the blonde at a bar with a group of friends. One of which, Carmilla recognized but she did not know how, or from where. Before she could figure it out she was summoned by her superior.

Upstairs in Hollis’s office, Carmilla sat and watched as her boss paced back and forth behind his desk, crumpling papers into balls, throwing them, and grumbling.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m here, or did you just need an audience for you sissy tantrum?” said Carmilla, who was unamused by her boss’s behaviour.

“You know if anyone else talked to me the way you do I would have them killed,” retorted Hollis.

Suddenly the doors behind them opened and once again Carmilla was disappointed to see Theo.

“I know you’re an orphan, but didn’t anyone teach you how to knock before entering a room?” said Carmilla.

“I will kill you,” responded Theo, aggressively. He was already in a bad mood.

“Why aren’t you watching Laura? And what’s wrong with your eye?” Hollis stopped pacing and stood with his arms crossed in front of him. Carmilla leaned out of her chair to look at Theo’s face, to which she burst into laughter at the sight of his black eye.

“Laura caught on that I wasn’t hanging around her for the friendship. She got upset and threw an Xbox controller at me. She also told me to tell you that she doesn’t need to be watched over and if she sees me following her she will leave and move to Canada.”

“Typical” said Hollis, clearly unamused. “Alright, you two are switching tasks.”

“Wow, now I’ve been promoted from online stalker to the real thing. Fun.” said Carmilla as though she was displeased, but she really was relieved to get away from her hacking duties.

“I don’t think Carmilla is suitable for this,” said Theo, partially honest, and partially because he did not want to be cooped up in the basement.

“Why not?” said Hollis, even though he was not going to change his mind. 

“Well, she’s not the most pleasant person, as you know. “

“Well, she’s not going to befriend Laura. We learned that this wasn’t the best approach.” Hollis directed his words towards Carmilla now, “I want you to watch her from safe distance. During the day you’ll keep an eye on her and at night I’ll have separate assignments for you. You’ll start tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds good, Hollis,” Carmilla got out of her chair to leave, sending a malicious smirk towards Theo as she passed.

After Carmilla left, Hollis looked at Theo who was lost in his disappointment with himself.

“There’s someone I want you to look into,” said Hollis to Theo. The assassin immediately lifted his head and gave his full attention to Hollis. “Emilia Valentino.”

 

Carmilla wandered around Central Park, an iced black coffee in hand. The humidity of the hot July day made her seek refuge under a shady tree. There, she sat for a few hours, watching people and imagining how different their lives were compared to hers, unaware of how different her life was about to become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter even if it didn't go where you thought it would. There is a lot more I'm hoping to do with this story, so I hope this chapter was decent enough to keep you interested!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait, I'll try to put out a new update sooner!

Carmilla woke up on a Tuesday morning and stared at the shadows the window cast along her ceiling. The remnants of dreams lingered beneath her heavy eyelids, she craved nothing more than to delve back into an existence where she had neither regrets nor responsibilities.  


She slowly sat up, her body exhausted from trying to adjust to a new schedule. It was her third day watching over Laura and she had not decided whether she liked it better than the computer room.  


The brunette rose from her warm bed, letting out a big yawn as she slowly wandered to the various locations where her clothes were thrown. She passed through the space as though she did not belong in it. There was an unknown anxiety, and unsettling anticipation that stirred in the pit of her stomach and bore the subtle reminder that she would never belong anywhere.  


It took the assassin a long five minutes to get all of her things ready for the day. The sun was already warm against her face when she walked outside. She was not dressed for the day in her black long sleeve shirt and tight leather pants, but she was not in the mood to change and was running terribly late.  


The sunlight pierced through the window of the car. It turned out to become a nuisance for the brunette who was maneuvering through the streets of the waking city. With the window rolled down she listened to the sounds of morning traffic, the honking cars, the murmur of irritated voices, and radios that were way too loud and all on different stations. 

At times the sun disappeared behind tall buildings, relieving the driver’s eyes of the strong sunlight, but with the distraction of the glare out of the way she could feel the oncoming headache arising from her lack of caffeine intake.  


Carmilla parked in front of a coffee shop that was across from an animal shelter she expected to see Laura at. A black coffee in hand, the brunette found a cozy seat by the window where, sure enough, five minutes later she saw Laura walking across the street. She noticed the gleeful blonde, somewhat irritated by her joy, somehow curious about her thoughts, and altogether annoyed with her task.  


_At least she’s pretty._  


Carmilla found herself having to be reminded of this fact often.

 

After a few more days Carmilla became accustomed to waking up at eight in the morning in order to sit in a coffee shop across the street from the animal shelter. Through the large window she would watch as Laura helped with routine clean up and socializing the animals. At times, Carmilla was tempted to walk in and play with the kittens though she would never admit this to anyone.  


Carmilla became familiar with the subway system, it’s merging lines and intricacies, which she learned the hard way after losing track of the blonde a few times in the convoluted array of people.  


The city became a maze for Carmilla as she followed Laura through many streets day after day. There was always a new scenery she passed by, a new block she walked down that she did not wander along the day before.  


The assassin was amazed at the amount of dedication Laura had to helping people. Everyday seemed like a new charity. She had followed Laura to a senior center and a soup kitchen on one day and a relay the next.  


This bittersweet familiarity of routine settled in after many weeks and the assassin found it to be a beneficial distraction from the chaos that her life had gone through before this stalking job started. But the world worked to never work out for Carmilla, and suddenly she was forced to abandon the schedule she had just learned to appreciate when Laura began her fall semester at university.  


Carmilla was back at the beginning where she had to become accustomed to the blonde’s schedule. She would still wake up and sit in the coffee shop every morning, but everything else was different and hectic.  


Instead of waiting for Laura outside of the various places she volunteered for she was now bored to death in the back row of Laura’s lectures. She had no interest in literature, sociology or economics. Carmilla was thankful for the shuffle of college students trying to exit the large lecture hall which would signal the time to leave and was especially helpful if she had accidently fallen asleep.  


Laura always had lunch with a friend after she finished her classes. It tended to vary between LaFontaine, Perry, Mel, or Danny.  


On Wednesday evenings Laura would run the social justice activists meetings and Friday afternoons she would meet with a small group and engage in a weekly discussion on LGBTQ rights and advocacy.  


On some evenings, Laura would go out with a group of friends to the movies, to a bar or a just wander the streets looking for something to do, somewhere to be. On other evenings, however, Laura would stay in her apartment and bake, read or paint, and those were the evenings Carmilla liked the most.  


On Saturdays Laura would have small adventures in the city, sometimes with a companion, sometimes alone, but more often she would wander around central park, buy ice cream and find a nice shady place to sit and read. In the evenings she and her roommate LaFontaine would make a fort in the living room, order take-out, and watch a cheesy rom-com or a film from the 80’s.  


But of all the days of the week Carmilla’s favorite days were Sundays. On Sunday’s Laura would go to the public library to read or, study for her classes. Carmilla would pick a random book, find a seat that was far away enough for her to see Laura, (but for Laura to be unable to notice her) and she would just think— for hours until Laura decided to leave and she would return to her duties.  


Two more months went by like this. They all seemed to blur into one another but Carmilla once again found a comfortable balance between alternating from stalker to assassin. The more she watched Laura however, the more aware she became of her isolation.  


It had been four months since she last heard from or spoke to Emilia. After a while she had given up the hope that she would ever hear from her again. She tried to evade the feeling of loneliness, especially on nights like this where she had an important job to execute.  


Carmilla laid on her stomach looking through the eyepiece of a sniper rifle, trying to forget about the memories that continually haunted her. She waited for a man to appear in shooting range, a former partner of Hollis, who made a few mistakes that were well—unforgivable.  


The events of the day replayed in the assassin’s mind. How accustomed she became to the mundane routine that the simplest things would stand out to her. She chuckled to herself remembering how she followed Laura to a bowling alley with her friends, and how terrible she was at it— she couldn’t even keep the ball in her own lane. She was so distracted by her thoughts that she did not hear the sound of the gun unloading from behind her.  


The bullet barely missed her head and nearly graced her right ear. She quickly rolled onto her back, grabbing the gun she had placed next to her. She took a shot and hit the man’s arm. He staggered backwards letting out a pained grunt.  


Carmilla got up and ran towards him. He found his balance again and aimed his gun straight at her but she was too quick and swatted it from his hand before he could shoot. The attacker was just as quick, grabbing her wrist and twisting her arm behind her. Carmilla let out a scream in anguish then jabbed her elbow into his ribcage so hard that she heard a crack. His grasp weakened and she took advantage of this by freeing herself of his hold, but she was met with an unexpected blow to the jaw.  


“Now you’re starting to piss me off,” said the brunette as she wiped the blood running from her mouth.  


The man merely chuckled in response.  


Carmilla lunged at him, landing punch after punch, but he kept blocking them. The two continued fighting, each landing hits but not enough to have an advantage until Carmilla lost her footing by tripping over an elevated piece of cement.  


She was on her back looking up at the attacker, and he looked down at her menacingly. His mistake was being too close and she kicked him off balance. Carmilla grabbed the knife from the inside of her jacket pocket and held it to his neck.  


“Who sent you?” she growled.  


“The man you are trying to kill,” he panted.  


“Well this puts us in compromising positions doesn’t it.”  


“Please, we can work out a deal,” begged the attacker.  


“Assassins don’t make deals with other assassins. You must be new to the club.”  


Carmilla’s focus changed as she saw the lights of the apartment turn on. The attacker took this moment to take the needle he was hiding and plunge it into Carmilla’s thigh. Carmilla sliced the man’s throat open, his blood pouring onto her hand. She jumped back, letting the knife fall out of her hand. Using a special cloth she wiped her prints from the weapon. To her relief only a quarter of what was in the needle had been injected.  


_Shit._  


She rushed to the sniper rifle, knowing her time was limited and that whatever she was injected with would soon take effect.  
The man she was hired to kill approached the window, looked out into the street and then up towards her. Carmilla was not sure if he could see her but she saw how his eyes filled with anguish and fear. Carmilla was in range to take the shot but she hesitated. She felt herself become drowsy. Her instincts took over. She took the shot and quickly disassembled the rifle although it was a much slower process with her consciousness slipping away.  


There was a loud scream that came from across the street. Perhaps a wife, or a neighbor. but Carmilla was too occupied to take notice. Her eyelids were becoming heavy as though she had not slept in days. She managed to make it a few blocks before her vision began to blur. In her fleeting moments of consciousness she wandered into an empty alley. The last thing she heard was the sound of her body hitting the floor.

The smell of warming garbage awoke Carmilla the next morning. She had a splitting headache and a severe hatred for the world. She looked at the dumpster she was propped next to, she was not sure how she ended up there, but the memories of the night were slowly coming back.  


Carmilla grunted.  


The brunette checked her phone and her heart began to race as she saw how late it was. She had already missed the first of Laura’s classes of the day.  


The assassin had no time to take the rifle home so she hid it inside of the dumpster and hoped it would still be there later on.  
She staggered out of the alley. Carmilla did not know what she looked like after the scuffle but by the glances of the strangers she ran by she assumed she looked like shit.  


She hailed a taxi and managed to get to Laura’s second class of the day only ten minutes late. Carmilla let out a sigh of relief when she saw the back of Laura’s head in the front row of the lecture hall.  


As soon as the brunette sat in a seat in the back row, the adrenaline began to wear off and she felt the lingering effects of whatever the attacker had injected her with. Carmilla woke up from the firm shaking of her shoulder. She swatted the hand away in annoyance.  


“Sorry,” a familiar voice quietly said.  


_Fuck.  
_

Carmilla looked at Laura, it was hard for her to believe that she was standing right in front of her. The past few months Carmilla was always at a distance, always far enough away. If she ever saw Laura up close it was through photos on social media but there was always a screen in between the reality.  


“Are you okay? You look hurt, did someone hurt you?” Laura looked at Carmilla with concerned eyes.  


“It’s none of your business,” said Carmilla who got up from her seat and pushed Laura to the side.  


Carmilla was surprised when she felt Laura’s firm grip around her arm. The blonde looked at her seriously.  


“I understand, I- I’ve been in your position before. You don’t have to be ashamed.”  


“Fuck off,” Carmilla relieved herself from Laura’s grasp and briskly walked out of the room as fast as she could.

“We have a problem,” announced Carmilla as she bursted through the doors of Hollis’s office later that evening. Hollis, who was sitting at his desk overlooking some papers, lifted his head to meet her gaze. Theo was standing by the window like some villain out of a comic book.  


“What the hell happened to you?” asked Hollis, referring to her bruised up shape.  


“Doesn’t matter. Laura noticed me and she thinks I’m in her stupid English class. Oh and one of your rifles is in a dumpster of 31st.”  


A small smirk arose on Theo’s lips. He was overjoyed with the news that Carmilla screwed up worse than he had. He was anticipating Hollis to become enraged but was disappointed when his boss was pleasantly accepting.  


“This is good. We can spin this. Befriend her, get her to trust you.”  


“We already tried that with me, remember?” Theo said as he approached the desk.  


“This is different, she knew you and your connection to me. We have a clean slate here. I think this can work this time.”  


Theo let out a long sigh.  


“I’m not really sure how we’re going to be friends I sort of ruined any chance of that today.”  


“How?”  


“I was being an asshole,”  


“When aren’t you?” Theo muttered.  


Hollis shot him a glance and turned to Carmilla, “Well you’re going to fix that and befriend her, I don’t know how, I don’t care how, just do it. You’ll have plenty of time to think about it while you're on this new assignment I’m giving you.”  


“What is it now?” Carmilla whined.  


“I need you to find someone for me and extract information from them,” Hollis handed her a folder.  


Carmilla grabbed the folder containing the details of her new assignment.  


“I’m an assassin not a interroga-” Carmilla froze at the sight of the name.  


“Something wrong, Karnstein?”  


“No, no I misread the name. Thought it was some kid I had a falling out with in second grade. You know how those kind of things get to you years later.”  


“Good, we wouldn’t want any personal problems mixing in with your work right?” said Hollis suspiciously.  


“Yeah, that would be terrible,” she said hesitantly  


Carmilla walked out of the office feeling suffocated. She stared at the folder, afraid of opening it for fear of confirming the name inside.


	4. Chapter 4

It was Carmilla’s first day off Laura-watching duty in months yet she still woke up at exactly 7:45am— a consequence of habit which was her first regret of the day.  


She was both relieved and worried about Theo taking her place after a debacle they had over her messy journal on Laura. Carmilla didn’t have time to answer all of his questions which he had every time he flipped a page of the worn notebook. Carmilla would be more concerned over this, but she has something much more pressing on her mind.  


Her body shifted underneath the thin sheets and she turned to face the window which was slightly ajar. Her arms tightened around herself as she became aware of the chill of the morning breeze. The sound of cars passing by reminded her of the sound of an ocean, and with it the memories of the sea that held so much rage and joy.  


Images of Emilia running into the waves, her smile and the sound of her voice calling to her. Images of J.P sitting in the sand, and the intricate castles he would build from the garbage he found scattered along the shore. Images of the eyes of a man who she once trusted with her own life.  


Carmilla pulled the sheets over her head and buried her face into her pillow. Her jaw clenched and her hands gripped the sheets tightly.  
She laid there. Her body was still except for the occasional trembles that arose from both anger and sadness.  


Slowly, she found the will to rise and sat up, her feet dangled above the cold floor. Reality was returning to Carmilla who merely stared at the wall. The ticking of the clock became louder.  


_Has it always been ticking?_  
It was eight-thirty when she decided to stand up.  
It was nine when she decided to get dressed.  
It was nine-thirty when she left the house. 

The young man was beginning to worry about his most frequent customer. For months the woman with the black jacket would show up in the early part of the morning and order a black coffee. She would sit in the corner of the shop and occasionally stare at the animal shelter across the street. The man had a theory that she was watching someone, perhaps she was a P.I, or a stalker. He made up a lot of stories to entertain himself during the boring mornings.  
“One black coffee,” said a co worker.  
The man looked up. The woman in black walked to her usual corner.

Carmilla looked out the window. She listened to the low mumble of conversations that complemented the slow jazz music playing in the background. She listened to every clink the dishes made, every chair that was moved, the scuffle of footsteps and the sound of the bell that jingled every time someone entered or exited the cafe.  


The sound of a cup being placed before her caught her attention. Carmilla looked up as the man who had been serving her coffee every day was about to depart.  


"Sit,” she demanded.  


He hesitated.  


“I really shouldn—”  


“Sit,”  


And so he sat.  


“Imagine this, you’re fifteen and you wasted your life training to be something you didn’t want to be, wasted your childhood, and your happiness for it. And you realize that the only way to escape it is to enter the world in dark oblivion. So you do it.” Carmilla tested the heat of the coffee by letting the liquid touch her lips. She then took a large sip. “Now, imagine someone offering you a new life, a clean slate and everything is wonderful. Except that it isn’t.“  


The employee scratched his head and tried to subtly look for a reason to escape the conversation.  


“Listen,“ she leaned over the table and turned his face in her direction, “you’re stuck. You’ve traded one vice for another and you roll along with it, because he’s smart, and kind and he protected you, but it was the illusion of a naive mind that saw those things. Not reality.”  


Carmilla let go of the man’s face and sat back.  


“Could you see him again? What would you even say?” Carmilla sighed and leaned back against the seat. She turned her head to look outside. The sky was impartial to clouds though the air foreshadowed rain. The man looked at her, nervously twiddling his thumbs beneath the table. He was unsure if he was supposed to give an answer or if he was just a pair of ears for the woman to vent to.  


“I wouldn’t be able to do it. But...I think you can.” The guy stood up, awkwardly. “I hope you find closure.”  


Carmilla watched the employee return to his job, a slight reassurance rested on her face. She stared out the window in her nook of the shop until the clouds finally settled in and the sun could no longer pierce through them. Outside, the slow drizzle of water falling onto her skin made her smile. She inhaled deeply and sludged her boots through the sleet on her way to the closest library.

Carmilla was never much of a reader, but she was an admirer of libraries. She enjoyed the lingering echos of whispers and page flipping, of keys clicking and feet shuffling but most of all it was the only place she could really collect her thoughts which seemed like a rare luxury to her recently.  


She began reading through the file that she received from Hollis the day before. Carmilla stared at the picture of a familiar face and felt the animosity and nostalgia battle within her. She turned that page loudly and continued to read through the rest of the file. Luckily, there was no proof of past ties she had with him, or of Emilia, or of J.P. Her eyes scanned to a line: The Gerico Heist.  


Before she could read the whole synopsis she felt something hit her foot and a thud come from behind her.  


“Watch your posture!” yelled the stranger.  


“Watch where you’re walking,” retorted Carmilla as she turned around.  


A few hushes were heard from different parts of the library. Carmilla felt her heart stop when she saw that the stranger on the ground was Laura.  


_Theo_  


Carmilla knew that today wasn’t library day for Laura, so she knew that something was wrong and she was going to blame Theo for it. Carmilla quickly put the file into her bag and started to help Laura.  


“Are you okay?” she asked.  


“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Laura coldly. She hadn’t yet seen the face of her helper. “Oh,” was what she uttered when she finally did.  


The two stared at each other for a moment.  


“So are you ever a decent person or were you just born a jerk-face?”  


“Hey, I’m helping you now, aren’t I?” Carmilla handed her a pile of papers. There was a hush coming from someone passing by and Carmilla threw a nasty scowl in their direction.  


“Well I didn’t ask for your help.” Laura picked up her books and stood up.  


“Listen cupcake — ”  


“I am not some sugary treat for you to say anything to,” Laura snapped. She began to angrily storm off. Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose.  


“Theo, what did you do?” she muttered under her breath.  


Carmilla rushed after her down a flight of stairs. The assassin put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder which was met with a fierce shrug, so much that a book escaped her hold, falling in between the spaces of the stair columns some feet down and breaking a display case.  


“Oh no,” Laura whispered.  


A security guard emerged into view and looked up at the two girls.  


“Run!” Carmilla grabbed Laura’s hand and the two ran back up the stairs and in between the row of shelved books. Carmilla found a door that led to a corridor where she found a promising exit.  


“It’s locked,” Laura exclaimed as she tried the handle. Carmilla drew out a bobby pin from Laura’s hair.  


“Ow,” said the blonde as she rubbed the area the pin was in. Carmilla managed to get the door unlocked, and with a strong push, it opened.  


“Go,” she said to Laura who was dumbfounded. “Hurry,” Carmilla pressed.  


The two came out to the side of the building and ran. Laura grabbed a hold of Carmilla’s arm with one hand and held onto a book and some papers in the other. The blonde guided her into an alley where the two, mostly Laura, caught their breath.  


“This might be a bad time, but I’m sorry about yesterday,“ said Carmila as she handed Laura back her pin.  


Laura didn’t say anything for a moment. “That’s okay.” Laura put the pin back into her bun which was a bit frazzled from the running. “We all have bad days right? “  


Carmilla nodded. “Why don’t I buy you coffee and we call it even?“  


“Deal,” smiled Laura.  


“I’m Carmilla by the way,“ she put out a hand. Laura awkwardly shifted the papers and book she still clung onto into one arm and shook the brunette’s hand.  


“Laura.”  


“Laura,” Carmilla repeated with a smile.  


“So, how is your paper for lit class coming along?” asked Laura, trying to fill the silence.  


“Oh, I — uh, haven’t started,” trailed the brunette.  


"It’s ten pages and it’s due tomorrow though,” said Laura with a concerned tone.  


Carmilla shrugged in response. “I just had a lot of shit happen this week.”  


“I can help you...if you’d like,” offered the blonde who was obviously trying to avoid looking at Carmilla's bruises.  


Carmilla smiled, “I would like that.” At that moment Carmilla felt a buzz in her pocket. A call from Hollis which she silenced immediately. “Actually, I forgot I’m working today. I won’t get to it until the evening. Thanks for the offer though.”  


“Of course. Here,” Laura freed her phone from her pocket and motioned it towards Carmilla. “We can exchange numbers in case you need help. I’ll be up all night editing mine so feel free to shoot me a text.”  


“Thanks,” Carmilla hesitated as she put her number in the eager blonde’s phone.  


“Great, I’ll send you a message so you have my number,” Laura chimed.  


“I’ll see you around.” Carmilla handed back the cell to Laura and began to walk towards a subway station. The recent events kept replaying in her mind and distracted her from the task at hand. 

The subway car was relatively empty when Carmilla boarded. She took the opportunity to finish reading through the file Hollis had given her. Occasionally, the assassin would break and observe the cycling of people on the train. She watched as groups of people wandered in and out of the car, wondering what kind of lives they had, how she would never know, longing to feel a life that wasn’t her own.  


There was a large influx of people, soon every seat was filled and some people were left standing.  
“—name for jellyfish is Medusa,”  
“Erin said they would come over at five,”  
“Quitase de aya, esta sucio, mijo!”  
“The easiest way to get to your house is on the C train, but I’m on the F. Does it matter?”  


The voices around Carmilla began to coalesce; the conversation next to and across from her were indiscernible from one another. Everyone’s voice contributed to a larger noise, and it soothed her, until it faded and not even the image of Laura’s frazzled hair and soft smile was enough to distract her. All she could concentrate on were memories from years ago.  


The light of the mid-afternoon sun, shrouded by a grey sky filled the train as it came up from underground. The view of the neighborhood she once lived in and escaped from came into view and she felt her heart beat something fierce.  


Her footsteps trudged through the sludge that the snow left behind as she exited the station. Clouds of cold breath shielded her face and she tucked her hands in her jacket pocket, her thumb caressing the butt of her gun in small circles.  


Carmilla walked for a couple of minutes. The brownstones looked like the buildings in her adolescence only aged, and little bit sad. The home she approached was covered in plants and the windows were bleak as though they had not been washed in years. There was an old black man with greying hair on the front steps smoking a cigarette.  


“Princess,” said the man though it sounded more like a gurgle than words. He smiled revealing a set of yellow teeth with a couple of gaps. He struggled to stand and began to chuckle but his mirth turned into a coughing fit.  


“I am not princess, call me that again and I will hurt you. Where is he?” asked Carmilla, unmoved by the man’s self-caused ailments.  


“He ain’t here. He left two weeks ago,” the man said through coughs.  


Carmilla approached him, and wrapped her hands around the his throat.  


“Liar,” growled the assassin. The man quivered in her grasp. “I haven’t changed Roger. I can still kill a man with my bare hands.”  


“I ain’t lying,” struggled Roger.  


Carmilla's grasp tightened, and Roger’s eyes grew wide.  


“Okay,” breathed the choking man.  


Carmilla let him go and he fell to the knees, hacking his lungs out.  


“Where is he,” demanded the brunette.  


“Damn bitch, can you give a man a break?”  


Roger resumed his seat on the step and grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. He lifted the pack towards Carmilla as an offer, but she waved it away.  


“He’s sharing a small studio in Hell’s Kitchen. He changed his name to Clifton Webb about a year ago.”  


“Hmm,” mumbled Carmilla. She stormed past him, knocking open the door with a forceful kick.  


Carmilla stopped in the middle of the room and ignored Roger's complaints. He soon relapsed into another coughing fit. There was a window with a terrible stain glass pattern. The incoming light illuminated the floating particles of dust that were abundant in the space. The staircase looked worn and tired.  


_How long has it been?_  


When she reached the top of the stairs Carmilla stopped. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob. Before she could turn the knob, the door swung open. Andre stood before her wearing a white button down shirt without a tie. He had a faded black blazer and a pair of blue jeans. His hair was greying but everything else about him was just as Carmilla remembered.  


“Princess,” he smiled.  


Carmilla shoved him back into the room and closed the door.  


“Sit.”  


Andre sat, slightly confused and a little turned on which Carmilla noticed.  


“If you even think a dirty thought I will cut off the part of you that you find most worthy.”  


Andre straightened his posture. His smirk disappeared.  


“So what can I do for you today?” asked Andre, placing his interlaced hands atop of a pile of papers on the desk before him.  


“You owe Hollis a lot of money.” Carmilla began to wander around the room in a menacingly like manner.  


“I am aware of that.”  


“He’s willing to cut you a deal,” began Carmilla, but Andre let out a hard laugh.  


“That man never compromises anything. Just tell me what he wants.” Andre leaned back against the chair. Opened the drawer to his right side. Carmilla reacted quickly and pointed her gun towards him.  


“Easy,” he lifted both hands into view, a cigar in one of them. He motioned it towards her as an offering.  


“Why is everyone trying to get me to smoke like we’re in some sort of 60’s film noir?” asked Carmilla, partially serious. She found her place by leaning against a wall next to a shelf of books.  


“Suit yourself, cupcake,” said Andre as he struck a match off the side of the desk and lit his cigar. “Well?”  


“He knows you were a part of the Gerico heist. He wants the name of the head.”  


“Hmm,” Andre took a drag, “you could have just told him that yourself.” He began to slowly rock himself in his chair and stared at Carmilla as though he was looking for something in her expression to motivate the conversation. “He doesn’t know.” His eyes widened and he sat up straight.  


“Doesn’t know what.” Carmilla stated though she had a feeling she knew what Andre was referring to.  
Andre got out of his seat and started to walk towards Carmilla.  


“He doesn’t know who you used to be“  


“I didn’t tell you to get back up.”  


“It wouldn’t even take five minutes to expose you to him,” Andre sneered.  


Now it was Carmilla who began to laugh. Andre frowned at this.  


“What is so funny to you? He asked, bitterly. His face was very close in proximity to Carmilla’s at this point.  


“That you think you are in any position to negotiate with me.” She grabbed his collar, hard, and pushed him against the wall she was just leaning against. “Don’t forget that you owe my boss money or a name, and each day that I go without receiving either I take something from you."  


“Ha,” Andre scoffed with what little air he had. “You can’t hurt me. Deep down you know I’m important to you.”  


Andre was suddenly on the ground. It didn’t take much for him to realize that he had been punched, and that his nose was most likely broken. The strong sting had him motionless for a moment as he lyed on the floor looking at Carmilla’s worn-out combat boots. Another jolt of pain coming from the ribs by the foot he was just looking at.  


“You are scum,” Carmilla gritted through her teeth.  


Andre just laughed, “Oh, pumpkin, “ he breathed. “After all I’ve done for you?”  


Carmilla was soon on his back, a knife against his throat.  


“I could kill you right now,” said Carmilla, in a low curious voice. Each word rolled off her tongue with deliberate pronunciation.  


“Do it, please. I would consider it a favor and great honor to die by the hands of my former daughter.”  


“I was never your daughter.” Carmilla pressed the knife harder against his skin. Andre stared at the ground as memories flooded into his head.  


“Do you remember when I took you all to the top of the Empire State Building? The way J.P would calculate how much force the body would undergo if someone jumped from the top, and all of the stares we got because of that. Oh, that kid. And Emilia, constantly asking for quarters so she could see the city with those tower finders. And you, you kept looking around feverently. As though someone was waiting for you there. I remember this memory constantly. I always wanted to ask, who you were looking for. Did you find them?”  


Andre could feel the knife against his neck shake and it made him smile. The metal left his skin and he was ready to sigh in relief but that quickly turned into panic as he watched the knife sever his thumb from his hand.  


Carmilla picked up the thumb and put it in a plastic bag. Before she walked through the door she turned to Andre.  


“No, I didn’t find them.” She watched him grunt in pain on the floor holding his hand to stop the bleeding and a slight smile appeared on her lips. “Next time you better have the money or a name, or I’ll take your whole arm. “  


The pile of papers on his desk caught her eye. She decided to grab those too before she left. Andre’s eyes widened as he saw her take the files.  


“For the trip back,” she teased, waving the files in her hand and then slamming the door.

The sun was setting when the assassin left the house. Roger was nowhere to be seen, not that Carmilla particularly cared. The grey clouds mixed with the magenta and violet atmosphere that the fading sun provided. The air was cold against her cheeks but Carmilla did not feel the cold. She did not feel much of anything at the moment.  


At an intersection she managed to hail a cab to take her to Hollis’s. She put an elbow on the cold window but the area was slightly bruised so she flipped through the papers in her hand instead. Not really interested in it, she let out a deep sigh.  


“Bad day?” asked the driver. His accent was something Carmilla couldn’t place.  


“Something like that.” She watched as droplets of rain fell onto the window and she followed a few as they created trails, intersected, and then disappeared.  


“You know, revenge isn’t really as satisfying as it’s advertised to be,” added the assassin after a few minutes of silence.  


The cab driver chuckled. “No,” he agreed. “But I don’t believe in forgiveness either.”  


Carmilla couldn’t help but nod. “So what is left?”  


“Letting go, I suppose,“ contemplated the driver.  


“Hmm,”  


“Stay warm,” warned the man as he pulled the cab over.  


“Thanks, you too.” Carmilla handed the driver the money and exited into the chill of the winter evening.

Carmilla dropped the bag with Andre’s severed thumb on Hollis’s desk. Hollis, who was looking over some papers, looked at the bag and then his eyes traveled upwards towards Carmilla, who stood at his desk with a smug expression.  


Hollis pushed his glasses up and intertwined his hands which he placed on his lap as he leaned back in his chair.  


“Did he give you the money?” asked the boss in his usual monotone voice.  


“No.”  


“Did he confess?”  


“Not exactly.”  


“Then I don’t understand why you are so proud to produce this to me. I’ve already had one disappointment today. The most you can do is give me some good news.” Hollis grabbed the papers on his desk and lined them up.  


“I grabbed this from Andre’s desk.” She reached into her bag and threw the small stack of papers onto Hollis’s desk. “I think it’s details of another heist. Whoever is behind this one might have been behind Gerico.“  


“Interesting,” said Hollis as he flipped through the pages. “Alright, you’ve amended yourself. You can leave now.”  
Carmilla nodded and turned to leave.  


“Oh, Karnstein, before I forget,” Hollis reached into a drawer in his desk. “Theo gave this to me to give back to you.” Hollis handed back her journal. “There is also your student ID card. I figured if you’re going to pretend to be my daughter’s friend you might as well be going to the same school. The tech guy will go over the details with you tomorrow.“  


“Thanks,” said the assassin as she grabbed the notebook and card.  


“Also, please be more organized in the future. This journal looks like it was written by a five-year-old with terrible organizational skills.”  


“I won’t, but thanks for the suggestion.” Carmilla placed the journal in her bag and had her hand on the door when Hollis spoke again.  


“Karnstein, if there is something you’d like to share at any point,” Hollis paused and looked at Carmilla over the rim of his glasses. “I’m all ears.”  


“Noted,” hesitated the brunette after a moment.  


On her way out, Carmilla managed to run into her nemesis, Theo.  


“You have a knack for ruining everything,” teased the assassin to the other.  


“I don’t have time for these childish fights you always try to engage me in,” responded Theo in a rather curt tone.  


“Just because you pissed off the boss today doesn’t mean you have asshole entitlement.”  


Theo sighed in annoyance. “It’s none of your business, but I have information that will put me on his favorite list for a while.”  


“Whatever,” Carmilla shrugged and left Theo to his own devices, unaware that the information was detrimental to her hidden past. As she walked down the stairs she could make out Theo saying “I’ve found her.”

It was mid evening when Carmilla made it to her place. She trudged her way up the stairs to her apartment. All she could think about was sleep as she struggled to unlock her door. The promise of blissful rest would have to be put aside for the moment she closed her door she felt the cold barrel of a pistol at the back of her head.  


“Why did you kill him?” an anguished voice asked.  


“I’ve killed a lot of people, sweetheart, you’re going to have to be more specific,” sassed the assassin.  


“Andre,” said the stranger harshly.  


Carmilla did not respond out of confusion. The intruder hit Carmilla’s temple with the gun and she dropped on the floor, dizzy from the blow.  


“I didn’t kill him,” she mumbled as she placed her hand against the part of her head that was throbbing.  


As her vision cleared she looked up at the stranger who was not a stranger at all.  


_Emilia_


End file.
